


Too weird to live, to rare to leave, and far too young to die

by xaidyl



Category: The Yogscast
Genre: Blood, Death, Evil people - Freeform, Fire, Illness, Injury, Kidnapping, Multi, Sadness, Swearing, Violence, World Domination, hearing loss, kinda how the hats came to be?, panicing, swearing a lot of swearing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-13
Updated: 2016-02-13
Packaged: 2018-05-20 06:32:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5995005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xaidyl/pseuds/xaidyl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes sacrifices have to be made to achieve world domination.</p><p>Sometimes sacrifices have to be made keep yourself alive.</p><p>Sometimes you can help.</p><p>Sometimes you have to accept that help yourself.</p><p>Sometimes you can wait for that help to come.</p><p>Sometimes you have no choice but to deal with the problem yourself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Too weird to live, to rare to leave, and far too young to die

**Author's Note:**

> First fic! It's slightly longer than I had hoped it would be, sorry. There may also be many mistakes, I warm you now. I have edited it, but I will have missed things. Anyway, enjoy. -xaidie

Alex was thrown into the cell, kicking his long legs back, but having no impact against the two, strong built, men, who held him. The white, plastic walls were bright against his eyes, before he was plunged into darkness when the cell door was shut.

"Fuck." He screamed as he lay, face down on the floor. "Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!"

"Alright, mate, no need to be so vocal."

Alex snapped up, trying to look around, but seeing nothing in the almost pitch black room. "What the hell?" He tried to run his eyes, but it didn't help.

"Alright, calm it." Spoke the voice again, deep and collected.

"What? Where am I?"

""Taken from your village I guess?"

Alex hummed in response.

"Yeah, me to. Sorry."

"Yeah." The boy frowned, just thinking about it.

"You got a name?"

"Alex Smith."

"Nice to meet ya, Smiffy, I'm Trott, Chris Trott. And there's another guy here, says his name's Sips. You hurt?"

"No, not really?" Of course Alex (who believed he was now called Smith, or Smiffy, but didn't really care) ached a little, but seemed relatively unharmed.

"Yeah, you look okay." Came a second voice, Smith assumed it was the 'Sips' guy, but was more surprised by the fact that this man could see him.

"Wait, you can see?"

"You will be able to soon, don't worry about it. Sips has been here for ages, I've only been here for like? A day? I think?" Trott explained.

"Bout so." Sips added.

"So I should get used to the dark then?"

"Course"

"Oh. Okay."

"I have to tell you, Smiffy, you've calmed down pretty quickly. Trotty boy here was in tears for hours."

Nobody said anything, but Smith estimated that a glare was being sent between the two men. The situation was admittedly a bit awkward, but they all had one thing in common. They were all stuck in a cell, and they all had little idea what was going on.

 

 

"Can I like? Get off the floor?"

"Yeah, sure, there's a bed here if you can reach it."

"Only one?"

"There's two in a room, you can either share with me or Sipsy, I'd suggest me."

Alex blinked twice, then used his hands to prop himself up, then dragged himself up, before promptly falling back again, after slamming his head against the low ceiling.

"You're tall." Trott pointed out. "You might wanna crawl over here, I'll give you a hand."

Smith took the rather small hand that was held out towards him, he could just make out the shape of the boy.

"How old are you, Smith?"

"18." He had to think about it a little before he spoke.

"Cool, me too. My mum was going to make me a cake for my birthday, which must be soon." The boy acted like a young child, and Smith was surprised that they were the same age.

"Is your mum where we are too? In this... Place?"

"No, they only took me from my village. " Trott whispered, sounding a little upset and betrayed. This confused the tall boy. His whole village was taken, or slaughtered.

"They only took you?"

"Yeah. The leader guy, Xephos or something, said he would take me and leave the rest alone." Explained the boy, looking up to the ceiling occasionally.

"And did he?"

"I don't know." Trott sighed.

"I doubt it." Sips muttered from the other side of the room.

"Leave it alone, Sips." "I know what that guys like. He comes across all nice, but he's a nasty piece of work. That little ginger sidekick of his as well. Worst people I've ever heard of."

"So you know, like whose put us here."

"This is Yoglabs, kid. You heard of it?" Smith could almost hear the spite in Sips' voice.

"No." He shrugged.

"Really?" Trott exclaimed. "Didn't you do science or engineering at school. This is where I wanted to work. It was my dream place. Not such a dream anymore."

"Shut up Trott, not everyone is a nerd like you." Sips spat jokily. "Anyway." He added more sincerely. "Yog Labs is a massive research facility, biggest in Minecraftia. Seems like a good place, at first, but they use human test subjects, from nearby villages they've taken over. Shit heads."

"How do you know this?" Smith questioned, lifting an eyebrow.

"I just do." Sips glared.

"What?" The boy wasn't going to take this as an answer.

"I said I just do."

"I know what you said. " Smith growled, slightly fed up of this Sips guy, much preferring the other man. Trott? Was that his name?

 

 

"My friend, Duncan, used to work with them." Sips sighed, unwilling to give an answer.

"Where's he now? Why did he stop working for them?"

"God, so many questions. He escaped, he was put in this very cell after fighting back against Xephos and Honeydew."

"How did he escape?" Smith asked, with hope in his voice, that there may be a way out of this terrible place. There was no answer.

"You know you don't have to tell him, Sips." Trott explained.

"Why not? I told you didn't I? We're not going to be here long, there's no point keeping secrets? Smiffy, Duncan escaped, but we had to help him. And people died. Hannah, she was killed as they ran, and Sjin."

"Whose Sjin."

Sips was silent again, leaving Trott to answer. "His boyfriend."

"Oh."

"They came into the cell to take him. I didn't show up on the cctv, they didn't think I was involved. But Lewis himself dragged him out, and shot him, right through the head in the corridor."

"Oh. I'm sorry mate."

"S'okay. But I wouldn't try and escape. I think that Duncan wasn't killed straight away because that knew him. You can't get out."

 

 

"So what's gonna happen to us?"

"Hate to break it to you, but your going to die. Eventually, in some way."

"And your fine with this?" Smith questioned.

"I've been here for months. Maybe even years. I don't care anymore, I've lost everything."

"Trott?"

"I don't want to die." Trott whispered, finally not chatting constantly. 

"Well I don't either, what are we going to do about it."

"Nothing. We can't. Maybe if they let us out."

"They're not going to let you out." Sips sighed.

"Anyway Smith, can you see anything yet?" Trott questioned, a few moments later, while the trio sat thinking.

"Nope, nothing. Well, like silhouettes."

"Try shutting your eyes really tight for a bit, you should just soon. It'll be loads better soon, I promise you," Smith did as Trott said, and was not surprised to see that it had worked, because the young man seemed intelligent.

 

 

Alex looked at the now visible room, although there were no colours, and everything was just slightly blurry shapes. The cell was tiny, with two beds, and not much else. The figure on the bed opposite him was stick thin, with little hair, and little clothing. The other figure, on the bed next to him, so in a better view, was well built, and had relatively long hair, that curled round in a fringe at the front. Neat, and very different to Smith with his fluffy, auburn brown hair.

"Thanks. It's better now." Smith said, leaning back against the wall, and stretching his long legs out. "What do we do here?"

"We wait. We talk, we sleep. "

"Do we get food?" Smith asked. He was already hungry.

"I don't know, I haven't got any yet." Trott sighed, before Sips stated laughing.

"Of course you get food, how do you think I'm still alive? It's only once a day, though, and it's not much, but it's something to look forward to." The older man chuckled out.

"Good. I'm starving." Trott groaned, then he shuffled along the mattress of the bed, and curled up next to Smith, hugging him tight.

"What are you doing?" Smith jumped up.

"It's cold, I thought I'd hug you. Do you mind?" Mumbled the small boy apologetically.

"No, not at all, go ahead." It was a little weird to Smith that this boy was like this, but he was right, it was cold, and he was guessing, no matter how had Trott tried to act chilled, he was actually quite scared, as was Smith himself, at the fact he was going to die, and there was apparently nothing to do about it.

Soft snores were soon heard from across the room, and Trott whispered into Smith's ear that Sips was probably sleeping now, as there wasn't much else to do. The two boys sat on the bed together talked and talked, until they were both asleep, calm in each other's arms, only having their eyes shut for a few hours before being awoken again.

 

 

The door was shut as fast as it was opened, a clatter as a tray was thrown in, and a voice commanded them to "eat, and someone will come and get them in a bit" the person promptly left. Smith leaned forward, falling off the bed, and landing on the cold floor. Trott, who was still sleepy, and clinging onto Smith, fell down with him. Sips stood up, then sat back down on the floor, next to the tray.

"Sips?" Trott questioned from the floor. "What do they mean by someone is going to come and collect us in a bit?"

"Don't know. It'll be something. They don't take me out much anymore after the escape thing." Sips leaned back while he was talking, so he was almost lying down.

"So what might they do to us?" Smith was eager to ask questions, so he did.

"Experiment maybe? It doesn't matter, you can't stop it." Sips murmured, having no sympathy for the boy.

"So what do we do?"

"Whatever they say." Sips spoke wisely, "And eat something, it'll be a long day," the older man pushed some food, in the shape of some oatmeal, towards them.

"Thanks." Smith mumbled, face full of food.

 

The taller boy ate quickly, but the smaller not so much, and he had barely finished before the door was opened for the second time that day. The light was such contrast to the darkness they had been kept in, that all three of those in the room were temporarily blinded. Smith could feel himself being lifted up and moved, lugged like a sack over someone's shoulder. He tried to mumble out to ask who is was, and where they were going, but the uncomfortable position he was in pressed on his throat, and prevented him from making a sound, other than a broken moan. Fortunately, the journey was over soon, and Smith was placed down on a floor, opening his eyes to see a much larger, well lit room. Next to him was Trott, scowling a little, and looking worriedly at their surroundings.

"Where do you think we are?" Smith whispered to him.

"Don't know. Keep quiet."

 

Although Smiths question was not answered by Trott, it was soon to be answered by the next man who entered the room. He was a little taller than Trott, yet a little shorter than Smith, with dark brown hair and a perfectly shaped beard and moustache.

"Alright boys." He looked down at the clipboard he was holding. "Which one of you is Chris Trott."

Trott looked up at him. "Me sir." He spoke quietly.

"Good, glad I got the right room. Not that there's many left." The man mumbled the last part.

"Why are we here." Alex growled, but the man didn't answer. Trott elbowed Smith in the side, and he added a "sir" onto the end of his sentence.

"I am Lord Xephos."

"Lord of what, sir?" Smith spat out, in disgust. He knew what the man was going to answer, but didn't agree with it.

"I am the Lord of Minecraftia. And I don't really need you, ginger, I'm only here for the little one." Smith glared at him, because of the name ginger, (he wasn't ginger, a slightly red brunette if anything) but the second half of his speech was even worse.

"What do you want with Trott?" "God, let me speak to him ginger." Xephos walked over to Trott, and grabbed his jaw.

"Is it true that you know a little about science and engineering?"

Trott nodded his head.

"Best in your town?"

Trott nodded his head again, the hands on his neck surely bruising his skin.

"Best in this area?" Xephos smiled. He already knew the answer, but that didn't deter him.

"Some," Trott coughed out, and Xephos removed his hand. "Some may say but-"

"No buts. You're going to help me, Chris Trott." The man smiled when he saw Trott sigh.

"I-in what way, sir?" Trott's brown eyes were wide with fear and confusion.

"Im running out of scientists, so I want you to make me something." He didn't explain why he was running out of scientists, but the boys could, imagine that it wasn't of their own will.

"What is it sir?" Smith was silent while the two scientists spoke.

"I need a bomb building. To rid me of.-Something. But I want it built specially so the different elements are split up."

"Do you mean like, chemical elements sir?"

"No. I want the blast wave, the heat, the sound and the radiation, all split up separately. And I need it building fast. You have a month, I expect it done by then."

"And what if I refuse, sir?" Trott didn't want to build something that would cause so much harm, and wasn't sure that even if he wanted to, he was even capable of it.

"That's why I brought ginger here, in." Xephos strode over to the other boy sat on the floor, and jabbed his foot into the young boys ribs, Smith reeling back in pain. He then grabbed the boys neck, and crushed it tightly.

"Okay. I'll do it." Trott murmured.

"What was that, Trotty?" Xephos' hand was still around Smith's neck .

"I'll do it. Sir." He spoke louder, and the man let go of the boys neck. "

Happy that you are ready to comply, Chris Trott." The man strode out, the door slammed and locked behind him.

 

"What an asshole." Smith groaned from the floor

"Don't say that, there's cctv everywhere." Trott explained, standing up and examining the workbench, full of tools and materials, and a note claiming that if they were to need anything more, they only had to ask, and it would be there for them the next day.

"What are you going to do then?"

"Make it. What else would I do?"

"But you know that you don't have to?" Smith pleaded.

Trott sighed. "But you know that I do."

There were no further questions asked, as Trott got to work drawing up plans, and Smith sat cross legged on the floor, occasionally making the odd remark, or using a knife and a piece of wood to work on carving a little thing. (He called it a thing, as he wasn't quite sure what it was yet) The room was bright and surgical, and Smith could almost hear the cogs in Trott's brain working. Although Smith had little idea what his friend was doing, but kind of hoped it would save him from being strangled again, as selfish as that sounded. The day went fast, and Trott had fully drawn out plans and an idea of what to do, before the pair was dragged back, checked thoroughly for anything that could be used as a weapon, then thrown back in the cell.

 

 

"You know we're helping you guys right? You could try being a little more polite." Smith shouted through the bolted cell door at the burly guy who had just been dragging him down a corridor.

"Geez, calm down a little." Came the garish laugh of Sips, sat in the same place he was when they left the room.

"So you're alive then? Was starting to doubt it."

"Yeah, fine." Smith blinked a little, adjusting to the light much quicker than his first time being in the cell. Smith was surprised that the older man didn't ask about what they did, but then realised that he probably didn't care. He then looked over to his other friend, only to find him fast asleep on the bed, the first thing he did once he got back into the cell. The poor boy must have been really tired after all that thinking, so Smith didn't wake him up, instead went to sit behind him, lifting his head onto his lap and running his hands through soft brown hair. In any other case, at home for example, Alex would have been teased horrendously for this, he probably would never have attempted it, but know it was just a sweet gesture, calming a boy down, that Smith assumed was a lot more afraid than he put on. The tall boy fell asleep like this, also exhausted, from just the lack of food, and the bruises that littered his body from the carrying and throwing about.

 

As scared as Smith thought that Trott was, he was nothing compared to the next inhabitant of the room. The hallways were echoing with the sound of sobs and screams, the guards struggling to drag the non compliant body along with them. He was thrown in, and he lay on the floor, Trott and Smith, who had awoken at the initial sound of cries, crawled over to see him. Sips, asleep on his bed, paid no attention.

"Hey sunshine." Trott spoke softly to the crying man, "I'm Trott, my friend is Smith. What's your name?"

"Ross." Choked the boy, between sobs. "And how old are you?"

"Eight-eighteen, but only by a bit." The crying made the speech hard to work out, but it was still there. Smith recognised the voice, realising that this boy was from his village, and the year below him in school.

"Are you Ross Hornby by any chance?" Asked the tallest of the three boys.

"Y-yes, h-h-how do you know that?" He seemed surprised, and didn't seem to recognise Smith's.

"You were in the year below me at school. I recognise you from the design club you ran. Alex Smith, do you know me?"

"I-I think so." He coughed out, although he evidently didn't.

"Doesn't matter anyway, Ross." Smith pulled the youngest of the three boys into a hug, holding him tight. He also felt Trott's hand, holding them all together. 

"See, it's alright here, stop crying now."

"Where, where are we. Why can't I see anything?"

"Your in a cell at the yoglabs research facility. You can't see anything because it's dark, you'll get used to it soon. Don't worry."

Smith placed his hands over Ross' eyes, and removed them, Ross blinking twice at the fact he could kind of see something, then looking round the room (mainly staring at the two boys who were with him.

"Are you okay? Are you hurt?" Trott questioned, examining the boys muscled arms. In comparison to the other two 18 year olds in the room, he felt tiny and weak.

"I'm fine, I'm fine." He spoke, calmer now.

"Do you want a drink? We have some water in the corner, but it's not very clean, and there's not much." Smith gestured to the small toilet and sink area they had.

"No, I'm fine, they gave me something in the test room I was in before." Ross was crying very little now.

"Test room?" Smith said in a higher tone than usual.

"Didn't they test you for stuff?" Ross whimpered.

"No, did they do anything to you Trott?" Smith questioned.

"No, just thew me straight in here." Spoke the small boy in a deep voice.

"I mean, it makes sense with Trott, they only took him from his village because Xephos dude wanted him for sciencey stuff. But why would he do stuff on you but not me."

"Maybe, it's because you're such a twat." Trott laughed, and although Smith joined in too, even though he was still really confused. He figured he wouldn't get an answer.

"They-they didn't destroy your whole village?" Ross stuttered.

"No. He said he could take me, and leave the village alone, or take the whole village and burn it down. Some day, I'll go back there." The small brunette seemed excited at the prospect.

"Can I come too? And Smith?" The blue eyed boy looked a little like a puppy, with the big eyes he pulled.

"Of course, we're friends now." Trott smiled.

"Ross, please don't get your hopes up too much. It doesn't seem likely that we're going to get out of this place soon." Smith explained, a from on his face.

"But we will get out, right?"

"Yeah. Yeah. Why not." Smith smirked, then lifted Ross up a little, so Trott could lay his head on his lap. It felt odd to Smith that he had only met these boys so recently, a day, and a few minutes respectively, yet they were so close already that they were sat on a floor, curled up with each other. Perhaps this whole being abducted and tested on thing wasn't as bad as it first seemed. It still wasn't much good though.

The introduction for Ross lasted for much less time, and was much less intimidating than the introduction to the place that Smith had. Probably because of the lack of Sips. But either way, the boy was no longer crying, so it could probably be considered a success. Any other questions or points that needed making could be done in the morning. Ross was dragged onto the bed with Smith and Trott, nobody wanted him being murdered by Sips in the morning when the old man found a stranger sleeping next to him, and neither Trott of Smith wanted to share a bed with Sips. So they fell asleep in a pile, all curled up together.

 

The morning events went similar to the morning before, except this time sips didn't bother waking up, and Ross was dragged along with two, still with tear stained cheeks and a body shaking with anxiety of what was to come.

"Smith, Trott, what's this bit, you didn't explain?" He stammered out.

"Don't worry Ross, the leader guy just wants Trotty to make him something, and I tag along. I'm sure he'll want something similar from you."

"Okay." Ross looked down at his knees, which were lifted up to his chest.

 

This time it was not Xephos who entered, but a tiny man with a beard and glasses, and long ginger hair. He stumbled in, looking slightly hungover, then glared down at the trio.

"You two know what to do, don't you?"

He directed at the two older boys, his voice much rougher than that of the other man. "Get on with it then."

"Who are you?" Ross whispered as the on either side of him stood up and got to work (Smith not really doing anything, just looking around at all Trott's things.)

"Did you ask who I was, boy. I can't hear you. I am Simon Honeydew, but you will address me as Honeydew, or Sir. Understand?"

"Yes Mr Honeydew sir."

"Good. We heard that you did design?" Smiths head shot round at this sentence, had he revealed something that would make Ross' life a misery?

"Yes Mr Honeydew sir."

"Good, you can help the little one. Off you go."

"Is that all sir?" Trott questioned from the other side of the room.

"That's all Xephos told me to say. Go on, get going." He kicked Ross, and the boy scrambled up and ran to Trott.

 

 

The small man left the room, and Ross was pacing, whimpering into Trott's ear. "I don't know. I don't know."

"You don't know what mate?" Trott raised an eyebrow.

"I didn't do that sort of design. Art an design. I did art, and buildings and pretty stuff." Ross twirled his pale fingers together, staring at them intensely. 

"So you can help then?" Trott smiled at him.

"No." Ross didn't even look up.

"Well, you can't be any worse than Smith." Laughed the small boy.

Smith looked up from his place on the floor. " That's true." He laughed, perfectly fine with doing nothing.

"But-" stammered Ross.

"No buts. If you can help in anyway, I need you to. I basically have a month to do this, or they kill Smith." Trott sounded a little like Ross' old teacher. But Ross liked his old teacher, so that was okay.

"Kill him!" Ross exclaimed, fear on his face.

"Well not necessarily, but hurt him or separate him from us, at the least."

"So I'd really appreciate it if you helped Chrissy, Ross." Said Smith playfully, not understanding the seriousness of what Trott had just mentioned.

 

 

"Chris? Whose that?" Ross asked, confused, changing the subject.

"Oh, I forgot about that. Chris Trott, that's my full name." 

"What about your middle name?" Ross questioned. It was a stupid question really, but he thought he'd ask anyway.

"Don't have one. And that bastard over there is Alex Smith. I prefer to call people by their last names, but it didn't work with you. Ross suites you nicely. So will you help?"

"I'll try." Ross put on a frown of concentration, and started studying Trott's plan.

 

Ross and Trott were working hard, and while Smith wasn't spitting bits of paper at his friends, he got round to thinking. More specifically, thinking about the night before. And how they could escape. A plan wasn't so simple. The area was heavily guarded, doors were locked at all times, and they had no personal possessions. There was also the problem of the fact both he and Ross were incredibly tall, Ross appeared to get extremely panicky, and Smith himself wasn't sure where he would go if something were to happen to Trott. The best decision, it seemed was to talk to Trott about it later on, when he wasn't working so hard on engineering things. The small boy stopped working around halfway through the time they spent in the lab that day, and walked over to Smith, smoothing out his fringe which had become messy. He wrapped an arm around the younger boys shoulders. Smith didn't say a thing, just looked up, smiled, then went back to his wood carving, with Trott still holding him from behind, watching his every move.

"You okay?" He spoke softly.

" Yeah, just a little tired. You?"

"Very tired, so tired, but Ross is working well, so I thought I could leave him for a bit." Trott smiled as Smith looked over to the youngest boy, hunched over a workbench.

"Good."

"Well, I should be getting back, you know, strict deadlines and horrible consequences if I don't meet them." At that moment, it was almost as if Trott was about to lean forward to give a kiss, as he leaned his head over and stared into Smith's eyes. But he only smiled, then walked off.

"Yeah. I guess that's fine. Good. All good." Muttered the tall boy underneath his breath.

 

The day went quickly, and they were thrown back into the cell before they knew it, supposedly waking Sips up in the process. "What are you doing now, Trott?" He spoke, his Canadian accent thick.

"I don't even know." Trott sighed, obviously still deep in thought as he navigated through the dark room and sat down on the bed.

"And you Smiffy? Doing nothing like yesterday?"

"Pretty much" sighed the auburn haired man, looking at where he assumed Ross was. "Ross helped though. He's great at design and stuff."

"Ross?" Sips asked, confused. "Yeah, new guy. Say hi Ross." Trott spoke from the other side of the room, before going back to the calculations in his head.

"Hi Ross." Mumbled the youngest boy.

Sips laughed and lay back down again. "I like this guy already." He claimed, "better than old Smiffy here!"

"Oi." Grumbled Smith, then he walked to the bed Trott was sat on, leading Ross by the hand with him.

 

The night was dark and cold as ever. The three younger men slept on the same bed again. For no particular reason, just routine. As morning came, they were still in each other's arms, but now with Trott hanging off the edge of the bed, clutching onto Smith's arm, after being kicked off by the two, long legged boys. He fell to the floor with a thump when Smith sat up hastily.

"What the fuck?" He groaned, looking up and rubbing his eyes. "Smith? What the.."

"Sorry." He whispered, or at least he tried to whisper, but ended up waking up Ross in the process. The dark haired boy stretching, the automatically returning to his curled up, panic like, state, shivering a little as he did. But fall back to sleep almost immediately. Trott noticed Ross, but left him alone, instead turning to Smith.

"Why are you awake?" He questioned, raising his eyebrows.

"Bad dream."

"Do you want to talk about it?" Smith felt Ross hug him closer.

"No." He answered, and lay back down, not bothering to help Trott back up.

 

The brunette stayed on the cold floor. There was no space for him on the bed, and he didn't want to wake anyone up. It wasn't actually that uncomfortable, and his mind was filled with other things (mainly worry), so comfort didn't matter to him that much. There wasn't much point in going to sleep, because firstly, it wasn't going to happen, and secondly, he was sure that they would be to,d to leave soon. So he lay there, staring at the dark ceiling, thinking. He could, theoretically get back to his family. They were still there. The Xephos guy had promised. Trott goes, the village lives. And Trott went. And he was sure that they would welcome Smith and Ross, and maybe even Sips, if he wasn't to annoying on the day they got there. It was more a problem of escaping the Yoglabs facility. As Sips had explained, many a time, it was almost impossible. And that Duncan guy knew his way around. They had no idea. Also, came the thought of what Smith was worried about. Trott didn't want to feel like a mum to the two boys, they were such a similar age to him. But even so, Ross seemed so vulnerable, and Smith so irresponsible, that he was unsure how they would function without him. Something was bothering the tall boy. Obviously, something was bothering Ross, but everyone was aware of that. Smith was hiding it. And that was perhaps more dangerous. Trott would have to talk to him about it later. For now, sleep was in order. The small brunette figured that he wouldn't be getting much rest, If the next month continued how the past few days had been going.

 

 

Trott woke up to someone tapping on his shoulder. "What? I'm tired mum, let me sleep." He groaned back, still with eyes closed.

"Oh sorry." Came the voice (who was not Trott's mother, last time he checked she did not sound like a teenage male.) "I don't want to wake you, but Smith said that they'd wasn't to take us in a few minutes and I wanted you to eat something. Sorry."

"No, it's alright Ross. Thank you." Trott sat up, smiled, then frowned, realising he was no longer on the floor.

"How did I get onto the bed?"

"Smith found you asleep on the floor in the middle of the night. So he picked you up and put you in between us." Ross smiled, and handed Trott a cup of water. "

Thanks." He murmured to Ross, then turned to Smith. "How did you pick me up?" Smith glared at him. "No, I don't mean it like that, I know how you picked me up. I mean, how did you manage to. Aren't I a bit heavy for you?"

"Mate you're tiny." Smith put it simply. "I could carry you out of this bloody place."

"I'm not that small. " After getting nothing but a shrug back, he continued. "Thank you, anyway."

Smith didn't even smile. "Look, Trott, can you shut up? And eat something, please? We have literally seconds."

"Oh, yeah, sure."

 

 

Trott was working hard at the workbench in the lab. His two friends, however, were sat on the cool floor, chatting in what was just a low, inaudible hum to the smaller man. He carried on working, starting to build it, while they talked.

"So what did you do at school, Smith? I hardly know anything about I you." Ross started a conversation nervously, not knowing what to expect from the answer.

"Oh, nothing much, that was the problem really. I wasn't much good at anything." He sighed slightly. "I read a bit, but only about stuff I liked. And it had to be in the school library." Smith smiled at the books he read, many times he wished he had read something more useful, like maths or science. His subjects were slightly more specialist.

"D-didn't your parents buy you any books? There was a great book shop in town. My dad used to get art supplies and stuff from there." Smiths face fell.

"Oh sorry. Did I upset you? I didn't mean to. Sorry." "Oh. No, it's no problem. I didn't have any parents. That I knew of. Or siblings. A relief really, after all of this."

Smith smiled, and Ross knew it was true. He had no idea where his parents where, and it was agonising. Smith didn't have to do this. Ross had no doubt that Smith must have gone through this before.

"So who did you live with?"

"A lot of people. They didn't like me very much. Sent me back with complaints. Anger issues mainly. I don't get along with people well."

"You get along well enough with us."

"Well, this circumstance is different. No bitchy parents. Unless you count Sips of course." Smith laughed.

"I don't know, I haven't seen much of him. I'm yet to experience his amazing parenting skills." Ross joked.

"Nah, Sips is alright." Smith spoke, more serious now.

"He seems quiet. Moody."

"He's upset, I think. Lost his boyfriend."

"How?" Ross enquired.

"They tried to escape. One of them did, I think. But two were killed in the process. A girl, I think, was hit in the fight or something, and his boyfriend shin of Sjin or something was dragged out of his cell then executed."

"Really?"

"Yeah, I think so. Unless the bastard lied to us, and I wouldn't put it past him. Not that I know him that well either."

"Wait, someone escaped?"

"Yeah, I think so."

"So we could too? And we could find my parents then go back to Trott's village and live there!" Ross stood up, then grabbed Trott, spinning him round as he fell to the floor. "

What the fuck, Ross?" He groaned, but was ignored.

"Ross, no. We can discuss this later. Trott get back up, start working again. Quickly." Smith spoke sternly, shoving Trott back.

"What the fuck Smith? Can you two stop pushing me around?"

Again, Trott was ignored, so he stood back up, and got back to working. "Why can't we talk now?" Ross pouted.

"Cameras. And time. They're watching us, and they expect Trott to be done by the end of the month. We can talk about this later. Because believe me, I've been thinking about this too."

"But Trott will be tired later." Ross moaned.

"We can plan it for after we finish. Okay?" Smith suggested, eyebrows raising a little.

"Okay. We won't be doing much by then."

Ross smiled, then stood up, walking towards Trott. "What are you doing mate?" Smith enquired from the floor.

"Helping Trott." He said simply.

"No you're not." Trott spoke, not even looking round.

"Awwww, why not Trotty?" Ross pared on his feet a little, kicking the clean white floor.

"Because you're no help. I can do it by myself." The smaller boy picked up a screwdriver with a red handle, and passed it from his right hand to his left.

"But I can help?" Ross whispered.

"I don't think-" Trott argued, but was interrupted by the much quieter voice of Ross.

"You need my help. I can help. Then we can finish quicker, and get out of here quicker." Ross smiled, then moved Trott's head so they were facing each other.

"Okay, fine." Trott growled. He would otherwise have accepted the help of anyone. He was even begging Ross for it yesterday, but today he didn't feel it.he didn't know why. Maybe he thought Ross was better off chatting to Smith, maybe it would calm him down, maybe he needed some time alone, or maybe he was just being selfish. But if his concerns were for Ross, helping was evidently something he wanted to do, so Trott might as well let him.

 

Back in the cell, Ross was getting over excited. Inside, so was Smith. He had read about this before, in books. Prison escapes, and such. They weren't simple. There was one prison, they escaped it using magic. It was a shame really that none of them knew any magic. Smith supposed that he would have been good at it, if he had had the chance to learn it. It would have helped at the precise moment they were in, but if he did have the skills of a sorcerer, he probably wouldn't be where he was, and wouldn't have met Trott and Ross, who he was growing to like more and more as they learnt more about each other. However, even though they didn't have magic, they could still use it. They hadn't tested Smith for anything, they theoretically had no way of knowing that he wasn't a magician, and he knew enough terminology and facts for them to believe that he was. If they could somehow trick Xephos into thinking that Smith had the power, maybe finishing the task earlier, and claiming that it was his magic that sped up the process, although would require almost super human intelligence from Trott. There was also the problem as what to do after? Threaten a curse? Speak about thaumcraft leaders being angry if he does not let the three of them go? Smith was not sure that Xephos would feel scared by this, and maybe just lock him away and torture him more. What they needed was to distract Xephos and Homewdew with something, then do something worse, in order for them to escape. The ideal thing to do, was one of the only things Smith loved more than magic. Fire. Smith wasn't sure where it came about, but Fire had always fascinated him. He knew little about it, but the orange and the heat hit him in the heart. Fire was dangerous, but it was also a gift. If Smith could distract Xephos with the magic threat, Ross could probably distract Honeydew (who seemed less commanding and a little more weary than his friend) with some talk about something, then Trott could set a fire going. It could work. I could just work. Then they could escape, go back to Trott's village, or just run to where nobody could find them.

Smith explained his thoughts, and was met by an excited looking Ross, but a concerned looking Trott. "And what does Ross talk about?" He grumbled.

"We know nothing about him."

"Rocks." Came the voice belonging to a man they didn't even think was listening to their conversation."And mining, and such. You know the sort, geology."

"Does he like marble?" Spoke Ross, after thinking for a little bit.

"Why marble?" Asked Sips, a little confused.

"I did a project on marble. Last year, at school. I developed some sort of an obsession with it. I was working on a tower design made of the stuff, so I know about suppliers and stuff. Sorry for going on, but is that good enough?"

"Yes, I suppose so." Murmured Sips.

"And how do I finish the bomb quicker?" Trott argued again.

"I don't know!" Smith almost shouted. "You're some sort of genius, you can sort it out."

"I'm not a genius..." Trott moved his hand through his fringe.

"But you'll do it?" Ross whispered, pulling puppy dog eyes.

"I guess. I'll try." Trott sighed. "When are we putting this plan to action?"

"The day after you've finished. Which could be next week, if that is possible?" Smith looked round at Trott, who raised his eyebrows and nodded. Smith carried on. "I suspect that Xephos will want to talk to us. I can ask to have a private word, pretend you don't know about the magic. While that's happening, Trott asks to go to the toilet. A guard will probably go with you, but I'll have made you a device to set the fire. You set it off, then go back, where Ross will be talking to Honeydew. When the smoke alarms go off, and Xephos and Honeydew leave, we make our escape."

"Why do you have to pretend to be magic?" Trott questioned. "If I'm going to leave the room?"

"Because he will suspect something. He won't let you go out. Honeydew is more likely to." Smith looked down at his hand as he spoke.

"So you'll make the fire thing- whatever it is?" Questioned Trott again.

"Yes. While your working. Ross can help you, and I won't talk at all. You concentrate, you go fast. Is everything okay with everyone?" Smith smiled and looked round the dark room.

"Yep" Ross smiled,

"Sure." Trott spoke, moving his face into his hands. "Sips?" He spoke in a mumbled voice.

"I'm not going with you." Said Sips, calmly considering he was basically allowing himself to die. "I haven't left this cell in years, I'm not planning too anytime soon."

"Really?" Trott lifted his face again. "Yeah, you guys go. I'll keep here safe for ya. Come back and get me someday, maybe?"

"Course. Course we will."

 

At this point, Trott jumped up from his seated place on the floor, and onto the bed. "What are you doing Trotty?" Asked Smith, also standing up.

"Sleeping. I'm tired, and it sounds like I've a lot of work to do tomorrow." He spoke, lifting up the blanket.

"Yeah. Course. Night."

"Night." The chorus of good nights filled the cell, and slowly all four fell asleep.

 

 

A couple of days passed and the three boys grew closer and closer, despite the fact they were talking less and less. It was hard work, and the work was significantly harder now, as if Trott were to finish by Smith's deadline he had only one day.

"How far are you to finishing?" Smith asked that morning, yawning as he shook Ross awake. "Will you be done?"

"Probably." Trott's stood up, brushing his hair. He sighed a little as he looked down at his clothes. "I can't wait until we get out of here, we can wash and brush our teeth and comb our hair and have proper food and stuff!"

"Mmmmm turh." Came the voice of the youngest boy.

"What was that Ross?" Smith asked, kicking the boy with his head in a pillow. Ross lifted his head. "I said me too. And I'm tired."

"You know what Ross, I can tell. Get up then, eat something." Smith demanded.

"Are you not scared?" Ross asked shoving the dry bread into his mouth. "Does it not scare you? Either of you?"

"What?"

"All of this." Ross swallowed, then carried on talking. "The fact we got kidnapped, and locked away, but we're going to escape using a plan that could easily get us killed. And your building a bomb, Trott. It's going to hurt people."

Smith looked directly into his eyes. "It's going to hurt people, Ross. But no more than Xephos is going to kill anyway. We'll just be around to see it happen. Anyway, it's not like it's going to hurt us. You two will finish it, we'll get out of here, then you can forget about it."

Ross didn't totally agree with this. Neither did Trott, who was left speechless by Smiths opinion. Trott, however, knew that it was their only choice, so went with it. Although Ross didn't say anything, it still felt wrong. He was still scared of the consequences. Maybe he would persuade the others to warn people after they got out. Trott looked around

"Come on then. They'll be here any second." He wiped his mouth one last time, then stood up. They hadn't been here long, but they had almost worked out the amount of time between 'breakfast' and work time.

 

One would have expected time to go a lot slower for the boys, especially Smith, who didn't really do much. He did try to make the fire device for Trott, but was aware of the cameras on the roof, so it was difficult to keep it a secret. He also tried to replicate some of the spells he knew about as well as he could (there weren't any pictures in what he had seen) so that if Xephos was to check the cctv, he would be more likely to be convinced, and therefore their plan would be more likely to work.

Xephos himself visited only a few times in what had been almost a week. He didn't do much, talked only to Trott, inspecting the machinery. He didn't mention a word to Smith, yet every time, on his way out of the lab, Xephos would stick his foot out, jabbing Smith in the back. The tall boy resisted the urge to fight back, simply because he knew. Xephos would not be in charge for much longer. Well, not if they did what they wanted to. The boys still had little plan as to what they would do when they got out. But Smith wasn't going to let the man get away with his crimes. There must be other people out there that knew. The Duncan guy (was that his name?) must have told some people out there what was going on. It didn't even matter if he hadn't. The three boys would tell someone. It must have seemed suspicious to somebody, all these disappearing villages and young great minds being kidnapped. Smith smiled to himself the day he knew it was going to happen, sat in the cell waiting impatiently for the guards to arrive.

 

 

Ross' feet were tapping at an abnormally quick rate, and Smith could almost hear the cogs of a Trott's active brain working in the room that, other than Ross, was completely silent.

"Are you sure you don't want to come with us, Sips?" Smith questioned, breaking the anxious silence and making the other two boys in the room jump up suddenly.

"I'm alright Kermit. But good luck, anyway." Sighed the old man.

"Yeah. Thanks. Are we ready to start as soon as we get out Trott?"

"Yep." Trott sighed.

"And your sure the bomb will work?" "Yep." Trott sounded slightly offended at this, at the fact Smith would even question his intelligence (even though he wasn't intentionally)

"Got the lighter I gave you?"

"Yep."

"And Ross?"

"I know what I'm doing." Murmured the youngest boy.

"Good. And it about time. Act natural. I can hear them walking down the corridor." The door opened with a creak, the bright light still bright, but not blinding as it revealed the blurry silhouettes of the guards.

"I want to see Mr Xephos." Smith ordered, before having his head slammed against the wall as he was picked up.

 

 

 

 

Smith woke up in a room, much cleaner and less clinical than an room he had been in in the whole compound. Ross was sat on the floor next to him, drinking a carton of juice through a little straw, and Trott was tapping his nails on the floor, brown eyes darting in every direction. As the auburn haired boy lifted his head up, he saw Xephos himself, standing against a wall with Honeydew, chatting about something he couldn't hear.

"Ah, Mr Smith, your awake I see. Sorry about that, complete and utter accident that the guards were that rough." Smith really doubted this, there was no way he could have been accidentally knocked out by the guards just after he had asked to see the boss. "Anyway, what was it you wished to talk about?"

"I must speak to you alone." Smith growled, his acting on point. Trott and Ross also managed to act a little surprised at this, but also didn't over do it.

"My friend, whatever is said to me can be said to my colleague and your friends, surely?" Xephos lifted an arm, gleaming cuff links of his red coat revealed. It could be easy for someone to be fooled into thinking Xephos was a good man.

"I must speak to you alone." Smith spoke in the same tone as he spoke before. "Or not at all. And believe me it will be in your benefit to let me speak."

"Okay then, Honeydew, please go with the guards and escort the other two back to the lab while I talk to this Smithy fellow."

"They stay here. You have an office I presume? It will only take a moment, sir." The 'sir' was stretched out and sarcastic.

"Okay, but it must only take a moment. Follow me." Smith was unsure as to why Xephos used the term follow, for whatever it was they were doing, Smith was not following, more like being dragged along by his long arm, despite his long legs, still having to hop and skip to keep up with the brown haired man that dragged him along. Xephos' office was surprising plain. Smith sat on the chair that the other man pointed to, his head pounding. There was a white desk, two white chairs, and a metallic bookshelf and laptop, but nothing else of any note or importance that Smith could see.

"What do you wish to say then, boy. Make it snappy. Do you have any idea how much I had to stop in order to speak to you?" Xephos sat down on the other chair.

"My masters are not pleased."

"Masters? What masters? I am your master now, and I'm perfectly happy, even with all that's going on." Xephos gestured at the pile of papers on the desk, many of the seeming to be death threats from people like "nano" or "panda labs" (which meant nothing to Smith.

"I have been working for you. I am not your slave. My masters do not appreciate you doing this. Me using my magic to complete the bomb quicker. You locking me away here. There is little I can do, but they have much more power." "

And what are you suggesting they'd do? These masters?" Xephos smirked, not quite believing.

"Kill you. Or worse. I cannot speak of all the things they could do." This, at least, was true, as Smith didn't really know what these people would actually do.

"And how did they tell you this?"

"I am meant to visit the temple at certain points of the year. I cannot reveal too much information, but they contacted me in a vision."

"So what am I to do about this?"

"Let me and my friends go. And there will be no more trouble."

"So you're a wizard then?" Xephos kicked the desk accidentally as he extended his legs.

"Yes." Smith tried his hardest not to smile at the fact the man seemed to be falling into the trap.

"Prove it."

"What?"

"Prove it"

"Surely I've already proved it! Look how quickly we built that bomb." Smith shouted with enthusiasm.

"I don't think I doubt it was a quick time. But I have heard many things about Chris Trott. I have no idea how fast he can work, anyway, we don't even know it works." Xephos smirked, as if a thought had entered his mind.

 

 

 

"Why don't we test it ourselves!"

 

"What do you mean sir?" Smith asked, panicking a little. He hadn't predicted this.

" There's four of you right. The bomb works four ways. We already have a test area built. You can show me your magic too conjure up some force fields."

"Sir I can't do that. My magic isn't that advanced." The boy frantically searched for a way out of this.

"Well you sound like a pretty shit wizard then. I'm sure the 'masters' won't mind losing you. Anyway-"

 

 

Xephos was cut off by the door slamming open a guard standing there, arm out stretched.

"Look what we found in the corridor, with a lighter. " Spoke the hooded man in a monotone voice. "Little bastard tried to escape."

Smith followed his arm, until his eyes met those of a struggling Trott, being held up by the scruff of his neck, short legs kicking out in some protest. It looked like Xephos ignored this, however both the boys knew he hadn't as he spoke into a mic.

"Bring Sips, the design boy and the bomb to the test room. We'll meet you there." He clicked off the system, then turned to the guard. "Put Mr Trott down now. I'm sure he won't run again."

Trott fell to the floor and ran to Smith, wrapping his arms around his chest. "Sorry." He whispered, as quietly as he could even though he was panting heavily and sounded like he could burst into tears at any second. Unfortunately, Xephos heard this. He turned to Trott, and clipped him round the ear. "

Don't speak. Come with me."

Smith and Trott walked along, hand in hand. They were following Xephos, and a guard behind them. The corridor seemed longer to Trott than it had before when he was being dragged to the office. They were walking at a fast pace, so it wasn't that. They must have been going somewhere different. A different room or something, was it the test room that Xephos mentioned? He wasn't really listening. Trott was sure that Smith knew where they were going, but they couldn't speak. He was sure he would find out soon. They probably just wanted them to explain the bomb, even if they weren't going to let them go. Maybe they were just leading them to the exit, letting them out because of what Smith said, even though his part of the plan didn't work. Nevertheless, the journey to wherever they were going seemed endless, infinite turns making sure they couldn't find where they came from. The small brunette knew that the Yoglabs facility was large, but he never expected that it could be this huge. They entered and exited many departments, until they stopped outside of one, a door marked 'testing'.

It wasn't all bad. Even though, to Trott it seemed most likely that it was them that were being tested on (Lewis telling him to be silent, and the way he seemed to completely ignore Smith when usually he would be bullying him in some way) but he supposed that it could just be that Xephos was tired or excited in anticipation for Trott showing him the bomb, Smith being taken as security, to make sure Trott himself didn't do anything dangerous. This didn't stop the thoughts in Trott's head though. He knew what the most likely outcome would be now he was there.

This was confirmed even more in his head when the door was opened, to show a bound up Sips and Trott in a computer room, many screens showing a room with four compartments, each separated by what was probably extremely strengthened glass. The back walls, floor, and ceiling were equally blast proof. The worst thing as seeing the bomb, his own invention, sat in the middle, hooked up in the way it should be. The stickers that dictated which product each side would give out had been removed, This machine may likely be the cause of their deaths. This was obviously, not the only thing that could happen, but worryingly it seemed the most likely, and Trott's brain could not dismiss that as much as he tries until evidence was shown otherwise.

 

Ross' face was tear soaked, he was shaking a little,but other than that looked okay. Sips was bleeding on his cheek, and looked like he had bruises forming. He probably hadn't left the cell willingly, and had met the consequences. Xephos shoved the two boys in, in a way that they both fell to the floor, quickly scrambling so they were sat up, next to Ross and Sips. The scary controlling gentlemen above the cut the bonds that held Sips and Ross, then stood in front of the four to speak.

"Well done Mr Chris Trott." He smirked, laughing a little, seeming more evil than ever before. Nobody spoke in response to him, but Ross sniffed, and wiped his nose, hand shaking a little. "I have to say this bomb looks excellent, of course we don't know whether it works yet, but I'm sure we'll find out soon. You did it to the exact specifications I assume?"

"Yes. Sir, why have you brought us here?" Trott spoke quietly, and nervously. Xephos ignored the boys question, instead continued with what he was speaking about previously.

"Good, I had faith in you. I gave faith that it will work well too, not that there could be much done to improve it if it's only a tiny thing that doesn't work, but I'm sure my scientists can work it out." This confirmed to Trott what was going to happen to them, and Smith already knew that not one of them was meant to leave this room uninjured, and probably only one would be alive. Ross had a small idea that this was going to happen, but was unsure, only knowing that it was probably not going to be good. Sips was completely oblivious, this shown especially when he spoke up, no lack of confidence.

"Can't Trotty just fix it?"

"I'm afraid there's little chance that 'Trotty' will be around to fix it. Unless Mr Smith cam sort it out. " Xephos smirked and laughed a little.

"You're letting them go? Because if you are I don't want to go with them I'm fine staying just here."

"Believe me Sips, you'll be staying here. Maybe you don't quite understand as the youngsters here seem to, so I shall put it plainly to you. I need to test this bomb. It needs four test subjects, there are four of you. You still with me?" Xephos raised an eyebrow and Sips nodded his head slowly. "As mr Smith claims to know magic, I'm sure he can conjure up a force field to save you all- or whoever he wants to save. And then, if I see that the bomb works, and you are alive, I will let you go."

"Wait a minute." Sips groaned."I had nothing to do with this! This wasn't my plan! I don't know anything about this!"

"Don't try this again, Sips. You claimed this last time. You are the only person here linked with an escape attempt that is alive, and you have the cheek to try it again? I knew I should have killed you last time, when I killed you boyfriend." Sips jerked his shoulders up, and Xephos smirked at this.

"What was his name? Shin?"

"Sjin" Sips growled. "We all called him Shin but he said Sjin. It was Sjin."

Non of the three boys had ever seen Sips show much emotion before, so this was new, especially when a solitary tear fell down his pale grey face.

"Can't say I remember him well. I hardly remember anyone any more, apart from that Duncan bastard, I'm ashamed to say we were once friends. There was that girl with you too, the pretty one? Hannah? Yes Hannah. She was a mess, after she got shot. I do prefer not to get blood on the corridors, but I guess sometimes it can be helped."

Sips looked down at his feet, then up again, meeting eyes with "Fuck you. Kill me if you wish. You can't hurt me anymore. You killed him. You killed her. I'm just glad that Duncan got out, so hopefully he can come and get revenge. Not just for them. For all the people. Everybody."

Xephos slapped him round the face. "That's quite enough now. I leave you here for a few seconds, then the guards will come and get you." Xephos span round, the tails of his red and gold coat disappearing out of the White door. Before he left, he turned to Smith.

"I have to say, it's one of the most imaginative escape attempts we've ever had. But don't think that I believed you at any second. Congratulations on getting your friends killed."

As Xephos walked off, Smith held up a middle finger and stuck his tongue out, not letting what the man said get to him, as he knew it wouldn't get them anywhere.

 

 

"We have seconds, what can we do Trott?" Smith stood up and brushed down his clothes. "Quick."

"I don't know. I don't know!" Trott also stood up, and started to pace around the room in panic, carefully examining each and every monitor, but finding nothing of use. While Trott ran round frantically, the other two young boys continued to fire questions at him.

"W-w-what's going to h-h-happen to us." Ross' stutter made an appearance again, it seemed to come up more in moments of panic.

"The bomb creates heat and light, kinetic, sound and nuclear energy. It gets split up into four, and travels in four directions. Basically you can decide what happens to each place. I think Xephos has a plan to destroy 3 areas that have certain protections, and wants to hear it happening. I suspect he's sick in that way, he seems to be."

"Will they all kill us?" Smith asked now. "The heat will burn you up into ash straight away, the force of the explosion will probably kill you, break most of your bones and damage your internal organs. You wouldn't be dead instantly, but without magic or extreme medical care you would be dead in hours. The sound will deafen you instantly, you probably won't be able to hear or speak again without reconstruction of the ear, although it could damage your heart a little, having too much sound. I don't know about the radiation. It could kill you slowly, radiation poisoning, but no ones ever had that amount of radiation without being killed instantly, so I could create weird mutations as well. But if it goes as normal, it will kill you, without medical intervention." Trott explained, attempting to type into one of the keyboards.

"D-do you think they'll choose who gets what?"

"I doubt it. They'll keep whoever gets the radiation for observation then let it kill them. Whoever gets sound will probably be shot, sorry to say it. They may have a chance of escaping, but it will be difficult." Trott pushed they keyboard back in anger, then promptly moved it back into its perfect place. He then sank to the ground, cross legged with his head in his hands.

"What are we going to do then?" Smith walked over to the door and kicked it. Nothing happened.

"Fuck." He kicked it again, this time hitting his shoulder into it.

"Fuck. FUCK!"

"I'm guessing it's locked?" Trott didn't lift his head from his hands.

"No need to stop-ow-trying. If we can just get it dow-" Smith flew backwards onto Ross as the door was flung open.

 

 

"Shit." Whispered Trott and Smith in unison, Sips was totally silent, and Ross just shook a little, not wanting to believe what was about to happen to them.

 

"Guys were going to be okay. Okay? It will all be fine, we've got out of worse, we can get out of this. " Smith reassured the others, even though he new they didn't believe it, and he didn't believe it either. All four of them were either picked up, in Trott's case, or as the others were, dragged along, because the guards couldn't be bothered to pick up the three over average height men (and Sips was being purposely difficult.) They were taken into the room that had been shown on the screen, all four of them in silence until they were placed down, in separate sections, and the heavy, blast proof, metal doors were slammed behind them.

Ross stayed stood up, in the centre of his quarter, shaking far too much and sobbing, panicking at the fact nobody could hear him, just wanting to run to his friends that he had only had for a few weeks.

The three boys weren't sure what Sips said, but it was probably along the lines of "Fuck this." As he lay down on the white floor and stared up at the ceiling, seemingly completely emotionless, but inside a total mess.

Trott ran forward straight away to the bomb, trying to find a way to diffuse it, which theoretically he would have been able to do if he wasn't met by a force field blocking him from it, that he presumed would only be lifted seconds before the explosion.

Smith ran in the opposite direction to Trott, towards the door, knowing that if he could get out quickly, he could run round and let the others out. He wished that he had the lighter he made, or something to get through. This seemed less and less possible as he heard another door behind it being locked, and a high pitched squeak echoed through each glass tank.

 

A countdown started, obviously the voice of Xephos, as he seemed to want to watched this happen. He was probably enjoying it.

 

 

 

"10"

Smith kicked the door hard, hitting himself backwards onto the floor, and quickly stood up.

"9"

Ross wiped his eyes, and stood up straight, started drawing patterns on his hand with his fingers.

"8"

Sips thought of Sjin, how he had given his life to help Duncan escape , but Sips watched them take him and could do nothing to stop it.

"7"

Trott considered the countdown, considered how long he might have to wait until the force field went down, and how quickly he could disable the bomb safely.

"6"

Ross combed his hand through his hair, and met eyes with Trott, as much as he could see, and smiled nervously at him.

"5"

Trott smiled back at Ross, upset about the fact such an innocent young boy was about to die. He knew that he had done many wrongs in his life, he knew it was his bomb. He suspected that Sips and Smith had also done wrongs. But Ross could never harm a fly. He didn't deserve to be where he was at that moment, and Trott hated Xephos for that.

"4"

Smith hit the door one last time, screaming and cursing Xephos' name, ignoring the pain in his body, knowing it was about to get a whole lot worse.

"3"

Sips sat up to look at the three young boys in front of him, thought about how he was young once, how he loved once.

"2"

Ross realised that they hadn't fixed it. Smith said they would find a way out of this and they hadn't. He regretted getting too excited about escaping, he just wished it would happen soon. He thought about his mother before he got separated from her. He wondered if she was still alive, he wondered that if she was, she would know what happened to her son.

"1"

The force field buzzed then disappeared, Trott frantically tried to find the right two wires, but knew he had too little time, and even if he could find them quick enough he would have no way to cut them.

"0"

 

All four of the boys felt the explosion in different ways.

Sips felt no pain, he passed quickly, his body engulfed into flames instantly, all that was left a burnt out corpse, the only remnants of his body dark black ash in the middle of the grey, smoke stained section of the room.

Ross was hit over by a sound so loud that he could barely hear it, like piercing screams as he felt his ears burn and pop, even after it stopped there was still a ringing so great in his ears that it controlled him, he tried to scream, but couldn't make a sound.

Trott was thrown backwards from the centre of the four compartments, slammed into the back wall, then bounced back onto the middle of the floor. Still just about conscious, he lay in complete agony, curled up in a misshapen ball, all his limbs at odd angles, as blood slowly trickled from his nose, mouth and ears,the evidence of the bleeding within him.

Smith stood and waited for something to happen. The countdown hit zero, but he felt nothing. Not a sound, no pain. Just as he assumed that something had happened to the bomb, that Trott had programmed something wrong, he felt something fall on his shoulder. He looked up to see flakes of dust falling down like snow, covering his area with a thin, soft carpet. They were bright green, and Smith felt them soak into his skin, he felt himself inhale a few, as much as he tried not to breath them in. But they didn't hurt him, he didn't struggle to breath, his skin still looked normal, he still felt fine. He wondered if he had got lucky, but remembered what Trott said. Even if they survived, Xephos would just shoot them afterwards. They weren't meant to survive this. Smith brushed the excess dust of his clothing, then looked round at his friends.

He saw Sips' segment, engulfed in smoke, and knew there was little hope. He couldn't see Trott, his segment obscured by Sips' smoke filled one. Smith guessed that Trott must have been at the side he couldn't see, but figured he couldn't be in a good way, as there was large amounts of blood around the floor and glass walls. Ross was sat down in the middle of his section, knees to chest, mouth wide open and his hands on his ears as he shook backwards and forwards.

As Smith ran forwards to Ross he heard one thing, that he knew none of the others could. An alarm sound, that echoed around the whole building. A number of explosions went off, all at different directions, and screams could be heard through the corridors. Smith ran back to the middle of his section, just in time, as all the glass walls cracked, shattered and fell down.

"Fuck." Smith screamed. "Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!"

"Alright son, there's no need to be so vocal." Came a voice that he didn't recognise. "You're safe with us."


End file.
